The Winners
by QuoteMyFoot
Summary: Anyone could have taken the bullet that killed Shogo. AU, one-shot, mangaverse. Shuya is dying and he still insists that they won. Two students remaining. Two ghosts cheering them on.


There is a dull thud. Shogo turns around, sees Shuya lying on the deck, is about to tell him to stop being a clumsy idiot, get up, now is not the time...

But he's a medical man at heart. He hears the shallow breathing, notices that dark wetness that he must have missed before in the adrenaline and the rush and the headiness of _we've done it, we've won--_

Only they haven't.

"Shuya!"

Noriko's shout sounds distant to his ears, but he can still pick out the notes of despair, terror, rage, hysteria, like the mantra of that guitar in his mind. He realises, actually, that he has never heard Shuya play.

She is a smart girl, Noriko. He had thought so, even when he thought someone with that kind of smile couldn't be smart in this game. Even when he took her under his wing, and the wannabe rock-star with a smile just as bright, telling himself that he should shoot both of them, it was kinder that way.

Even as she lifts Shuya up - where did she get it from, that strength - in her arms and he grins at her shakily, _palely, _and tells her to smile, Noriko must know he is dying. Shogo knows he is dying. His instinct tells him that, cold and uncaring in the back of his mind, and does he have a right to talk about someone so warm in that way, someone like Shuya, with the girl on his arm he is leaving behind? Shogo doesn't think so, but then, he had never been warm, had he?

Keiko is urging him over there. _He's your friend, go to him._ But his blood is like ice and he is frozen to the spot - has no right, in any case, to bring a darker cloud over that brightness. Let them be together, the two of them; last moments, like he wanted so much but never had the chance - never deserved - because killed them himself.

Noriko is crying, and Shuya's crying now, and damn if his eyes aren't watering too.

"I can't do this without you, Shu," Noriko says, and she doesn't choke on the words, _could not, _when they are the last things she might get to say.

"Can," Shuya returns. Always had been stubborn. But he does smile at her, place a shaking hand on her cheek. "Come on, Noriko, smile. We did it! We beat them, we won!"

"But you're..." And even if she can't bring herself to finish that sentence, Shogo knows what she was going to say, knows what she meant_. (Dying. They still won.)_

"No, _we won,_" Shuya said, still optimistic even if his eyes are unfocussed and there is definitely a red stain, now, seeping into the deck. Still stubborn, but he's glancing at Shogo - pleading, beckoning. He's been keeping it together, for Noriko, Shogo realises, all this time; is still _trying,_ but he's slowly losing it - life. Needs something strong and sure, for Noriko, and Shogo has never been anything but.

Even if now he has to stop himself from trembling as he takes Shuya's weight from Noriko, sits him against the wall whilst she kneels by his side and clutches his hand. His hand, that still gently touches the side of her face, although it is her strength, not Shuya's, which keeps it there.

Even if now he thinks, _If I could take your place, Shu, I would,_ because nobody should have to split up a pair like this, even indirectly. Nobody like this should have to die, when there are tired, tired people like Shogo in the world.

Even if now he says this aloud, and Shuya laughs, saying, "You've saved my skin a bunch of times already," which might be true, but he clearly hasn't done it _enough. _And even if now Shuya says, wearing a joker's smile Shogo doesn't remember seeing before, "Hey, that's a first - you called me Shu."

Shogo can't remember if it is, but that doesn't matter anyway, and he says, "So what if I did? You grew on me."

"I do that." Shuya is still grinning. "Like mould, Mim said once."

"I wouldn't say that," he says. And he has to smile this time, even if it hurts and even if he's out of practise, because it's been a long time since he had friends like this, and that defrosted heart of his missed it. Will miss it.

Noriko is making an effort to smile through her tears, and she's doing and damned good job of it, but even their optimist can see how much it hurts. "Shu..."

"It's okay, Noriko," he whispers, voice suddenly faint. It doesn't sound right on Shuya, sounds like _losing. _"It's okay. You can make it."

"I'll miss you." She looks heartbroken, _is _heartbroken, but all her friends are dead and, Shogo knows by now that Noriko is strong enough to cope with a few more shards - because she has to be; too many people have died, and somebody like Noriko couldn't let herself disgrace their memory and stop living.

"You take the slow road," Shuya says. He knows it too, Shogo realises. He would if he could. "I'll wait for you..."

And he lifts his other arm - he's lost so much blood, Shogo can't imagine how he finds the strength, but somehow he's not surprised - and loops it around Noriko's back, pulls her into an embrace. Noriko puts her arms around his neck, gently, the hand cupped to her cheek dropping to Shuya's side again. Noriko doesn't see, because she has her face buried in his chest and she looks like she wants to stay that way forever.

Shogo notices, though. Shuya's strength has almost gone.

His friend looks at him over Noriko's shoulder. He doesn't speak - Shogo doesn't think he is able, now, thinks he spent the last of his strength just to hold Noriko one last time - but the look is enough. He understands perfectly. _Take care of Noriko. _

He nods, as if he would do anything else. _I will. _

Shu smiles. _Thanks, Shogo. _

And he closes his eyes, and dies.

Shogo lets Noriko be for as long as he can, until he knows the body is starting to cool, and then he loops one arm around her shoulders and gently pulls her upright. "Come on," he says. "We have to go." She nods, but doesn't speak.

He never meant to survive this. Before he met these two, and even after, it was only going to be Kawada Shogo's revenge. He's always been a selfish guy, and this time wasn't going to be different. There was so much of Keiko in these two, though, that he looked at them and thought, _They should live, _and the plan changed.

Well, he should have known better than anybody that plans don't always work out the way they were meant to. And he can't be selfish now, because Shuya has entrusted Noriko's safety to him, and he's not going to let anyone down again. He's just cheated death for the second time. He has no right to.

So Shogo forces himself to forget about revenge, and think of the small, shivering girl - _shock, _the medical part of his mind thinks - that he still has an arm around, and of distant America, where she can be safe; where _he_ can be safe, even if it's not exactly what he wants.

He can sense, somewhere, that Keiko approves, and he thinks that maybe things could have turned out worse still.

From the window he can see thousands of blinking yellow lights, the land they called home. Japan is a very messed up country, but it still has good in it. Must have, for people like Keiko and Shuya and Noriko to exist. Even in the Program, not everybody gives in. And outside of it... well, he was a member of this class, wasn't he? He saw what they were like, and if even monsters like Kiriyama could see clearly in the end, then the chance to change this place still exists. And Kawada Shogo and Nakagawa Noriko have the power to make it happen, if they try hard enough. _Damn right you do, _Shuya is probably saying, wherever he is now, _Because we're all the winners this time._

"We did win," Shogo says aloud, at the same moment as he has his realisation. Noriko gives a start. "Even Shuya."

_Even me, _he thinks.

He's expecting some kind of lecture from Noriko, but she seems to understand. "I think we did," she murmurs, "I just wish there could have been more winners."

He feels eyes on him, and shifts his gaze from the lights to her. "We could stop there being more losers."

It sounds like a clumsy suggestion to his ears, now that it's uttered aloud, but Noriko just smiles and says: "I think that's a good idea."

Her smile is a little empty, though, and her eyes a little distant, like she's looking at someone else. Shogo knows how she feels, knows the pain will get better in time but never entirely go away, like the ghosts.

(_There's a lot of ghosts, _he can almost imagine Shuya telling him - with that joker grin, the one that's burned into his memory. _Kinda crowded here.  
_Keiko is exactly the kind of person who would have found Shuya's grin infectious, but glare at him disapprovingly anyway. _You'll do fine, Shogo. We know you will._)

But that's the future. In the present, they have each other to rely on, and the ghosts to live for.

* * *

**A/N: This bunny has been eating away at me for ages, but inspiration suddenly struck and I just had to write it out. I probably won't continue this unless inspiration _really _strikes, because I don't think I can do it justice. I always thought the idea was an interesting one, though. Also I am a Shogo fangirl, so of course I want him to live.**

**I may or may not be returning to the BR section soon, for those of you who remember me/care (hi!). I do have an idea in the works, but I'll only throw it up here if I'm happy with it. I also have other stuff to focus on, so yeah. Could be a while.**

**Anyway, please review! I'd especially like feedback on how well I captured Shogo's character here, because I'm not sure I got him right...**


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